


shield you from the light (that's slowly beckoning you to the shore)

by starlabsforever



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, in which the author processes feelings by writing, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlabsforever/pseuds/starlabsforever
Summary: Iris can't help but hate Barry just a little bit.





	shield you from the light (that's slowly beckoning you to the shore)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Light on the Shore" by Karine Polwart, requested by Hedgi on Tumblr for my musical prompts series.

Night was the hardest part of Iris’s day, because it was the longest. She didn’t know how to sleep on the king-sized bed that was entirely too large for her, that made her feel like it could swallow her whole with all its emptiness and loneliness. She’d never had trouble sleeping before, but for the last 44 days, she had gotten less sleep than during finals week of grad school.

It had been 44 days since Barry disappeared into the speed force. Iris didn’t need to look at a calendar to know that; she’d been counting. She still hadn’t taken her ring off. It had only been a month, and she refused to let go of her hope, because hope was the only thing that kept him alive. The moment they gave up, Barry was gone. Her hope made her stubborn and sometimes belligerent, as she replaced everybody’s ifs with _whens_ and their mights with _wills._ She went to STAR Labs every morning before work, and every night after, to do what she could to work on a solution to find Barry.

Her computer screen glowed violently in the dark. She stared at the half-written article on her screen- _Flash Vanishes._ She’d left the title at that. She had refused to write the article for weeks, until she realized that if she didn’t, someone else would, and if they did, it would sound permanent. _Flash disappears. Flash gone._ The naysayers of the media would tell Central City that their hero was gone forever, and then everyone would start to believe it.

Iris was going to give them hope. She had to, because if they stopped hoping, he might never come back. Central City had always believed in the Flash, and so had she. Now it was more critical than ever that they all believed, but Iris felt her hope faltering as she pressed the keyboard keys.

As wrong as she knew it was, she couldn’t help but hate Barry a little. The Speed Force demanded a prisoner, and since it was the result of Barry’s actions, it seemed only right that he should face the consequences. But it was the look on Barry’s face as he turned his back that still haunted her. She’d been utterly shattered, torn apart from the inside-out, and he had looked so… peaceful. Happy, almost.

She stared at her article and clicked it shut abruptly. The window vanished, revealing her desktop background- her and Barry together, three years ago, when she’d graduated from journalism school. She was beaming with pride under that horrible polyester gown, and so was he. His arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and she remembered how it felt- like no-one could pry him away from her.

The only thing she wanted more than anything in the world was to feel his arms around her again.

Her eyes stung, hot and wet, and she shut her laptop and flopped onto her side. She felt so small in the dark and quiet. Usually, that quiet would be penetrated by Barry snoring or breathing or rustling the bedsheets beside her. Now it was just… quiet.

She reached for her phone and clicked it on to check the time. 2:17 AM, but she was assaulted by yet another picture of Barry on her lock screen. Cisco had snapped it at their housewarming party- Barry smiling broadly and holding her shoulders so tightly. She stared at his wide smile, marveling at how well that one expression had been able to mask the pain of the secret he’d been holding.

And that… that was why, she realized. Why he’d looked so peaceful as he stepped into the speed force. He had atoned for the one mistake that had been eating him alive for the past year. He was leaving all his worries behind. He had done his part, and now he could leave with a clear conscience.

The realization didn’t make the bitter pit in her stomach go away. Life wasn’t supposed to be painless. You suffered and you pushed through and you enjoyed every minute you had with the people that you loved. Then again, she remembered how much happier he’d been when he’d forgotten every detail of his life. Barry was perpetually weighed down by the pain of his past, by the sorrow that he seemed to suffer just from living. She’d been happier, too, when he couldn’t remember, because she’d never seen him like that. She’d never known a Barry Allen who wasn’t haunted.

Now, wherever he was, he wasn’t. He’d paid the price, and as far as he was concerned his slate was clear. _I’m not going to hell,_ he said, and it was as if he’d whispered it in her ear. He was at peace. That should have given her some kind of comfort, but it didn’t. Did that make her selfish, that she would rather have him suffering, but with her than at peace without her?

No, it didn’t, she decided, because she was certain that if she had him, and if she could only protect him, he would be happy. She was his home. She was his safety.

But she hadn’t been able to protect him, and that was why he was gone.

She dreamed of the day that he would come back, and she would hold him and he would hold her, but she couldn't help but worry that he didn't belong to her anymore. If he came back, maybe he wouldn’t be able to stand it here. Maybe after being guiltless in the Speed Force, it would be too much for him to be here.

She stared at the love of her life, now a ghost captured only in snapshots of the past, reflecting off of her phone screen. She gazed at his picture and loved him, missed him, hated him but couldn’t make up her mind, just laid in the too-dark, too-quiet on the too-big bed where he should have been.


End file.
